by Judy Duarte
“That works for me.” He reached for another bagel, sliced it in half, and placed it in the toaster.
“This one’s for you,” he said.
“Thank you.”
She studied him a moment, leaning against the kitchen counter in a cocky James Dean stance. Or maybe it wasn’t so much cocky as relaxed, in control. “Thanks again for helping me coordinate all this,” she said.
“My pleasure. But are you sure you want to keep things simple? I mean, most women want their wedding to be special, even if it’s small—and quick. We could have a church wedding, followed by a reception at Molly’s Pride.”
“I couldn’t possibly get married in a church when the whole thing is a sham. It wouldn’t be right.”
“None of this is right, Nicole.”
She wished she had an argument, but she didn’t. Her wedding day ought to be a happy occasion, one filled with love and dreams of the future—just as Marnie’s wedding day would be. But she wouldn’t dwell on the what-ifs.
Instead, she got up and went to the refrigerator in search of some cream cheese to spread on her bagel. Then she removed a small plate from the cupboard and waited for the toaster to pop up.
In the meantime, Miguel refilled his cup, carried it to the table and took a seat. “Have you thought about looking for a wedding dress yet?”
She bit down on her bottom lip. She probably ought to give some thought to what she’d wear, but her heart wasn’t in it. Not like Marnie’s was. Not when her wedding wouldn’t mean the same thing.
“I’m so busy at work I’m not sure when I’d find time to shop,” she said. “But I bought a white silk sundress last summer and haven’t worn it yet. That would probably work for a simple outdoor ceremony.”
When the toaster popped, she reached for the hot bagel and quickly transferred it to her plate.
“So what do your parents have to say about your wedding plans?” he asked.
She paused a beat, then answered truthfully. “You know, after having dinner with them, I’m not sure if I even want them to come.”
“No kidding?” Miguel furrowed his brow.
“I know that I told them they could attend, but I haven’t told them a day or time.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re not being very supportive. Besides, if we really had gotten back together in New York, if we’d fallen in love all over again, I would have been terribly offended by their attitudes the other night. And I wouldn’t have included them. A wedding should be a happy occasion, and they would put a real damper on it.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” she asked, turning her back to the bagel on the counter and crossing her arms. “You don’t agree?”
“Oh, I’m not questioning how you might have reacted had we actually renewed our relationship. But I was just wondering if that’s the real reason.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you afraid to have them there because you might back out if they voiced their disapproval?”
“Don’t be silly. If they come around, I’ll include them. I just want the day to be stress-free.”
She turned around, reached for the cream cheese and spread a layer on her bagel. But she didn’t return to the table. Instead, she ate it while standing at the counter.
She didn’t dwell on the fact that she preferred to maintain a distance. And that a full mouth made it easier not to talk about her parents anymore.
Miguel didn’t comment, either, which was just as well.
As much as Nicole would like to focus on the lunch she would have with Isabella today, she couldn’t help thinking about the small ceremony planned for next Saturday afternoon, as well as the people who’d be coming to wish her and Miguel well.
If her parents hadn’t forced her hand, things wouldn’t have come to this. Sadly, she’d had no other choice. She either would have to go ahead with the wedding, or she would lose control of the company.
And she’d couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen.
Not when Castleton Boots was rightfully hers.
* * *
At a quarter to eleven, armed with the directions Miguel had given her to Molly’s Pride, Nicole drove out to J.R. and Isabella’s ranch. She was surprised at how easy it was to find—and even more so to see four cars parked in the yard.
That’s odd, she thought. She’d called Isabella to confirm their lunch date on Thursday. Surely she hadn’t forgotten and scheduled something else.
Then again, maybe J.R. had invited friends over.
After parking and getting out of her Lexus, Nicole scanned the rustic ranch house, its adobe brick showing under aged white stucco. According to the article she’d read, the two-hundred-year-old hacienda had once been known as the Marshall homestead before J.R. had purchased it. But these days, everyone knew it as Molly’s Pride.
She made her way through a baroque stone entrance with a Moorish-style arch and up to a solid wooden door that appeared to have been handcrafted a century or more ago. She took a minute to study the carpentry of the obvious antique, then rang the bell.
Moments later, Isabella invited her inside the lovely old home, with its white plaster walls, dark wood-beam ceiling and distressed hardwood floors.
Nicole marveled at a beautiful tapestry that hung in the entry. “That’s amazing. Did you make it?”
“Yes, I did.”
Nicole had never been a huge fan of the southwestern style, at least for herself, but she really liked what Isabella had done with the decor.
As Miguel’s sister led Nicole into a spacious living room, where several colorful woven rugs graced the distressed wood flooring, she said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought it would be nice if you had the chance to meet some of the other women in the family. So I invited my sisters-in-law and my cousin’s wife to join us today.”
Nicole would have preferred a quiet lunch for two, but she couldn’t very well object. So she said, “That was thoughtful. Thank you.”
Isabella stopped before an attractive brunette who wore a blue-and-green gypsy skirt and matching tank top.
“This is Wendy,” Isabella said. “She’s one of the Atlanta Fortunes and is married to my brother Marcos.”
Nicole returned the pretty woman’s smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Miguel and I ran into Marcos at Red the other night.”
Wendy, who spoke with a slight southern drawl, said, “Marcos told me that you two were getting married. Congratulations. I hope you’ll be as happy as we are.”
Isabella added, “Wendy and Marcos have the cutest baby girl. Her name is MaryAnne.”
“She’s definitely a doll baby,” Wendy said. “She’s brought so much joy to our lives. But she sure keeps us hopping.”
Isabella placed a hand on her flat tummy. “I can’t wait for our little one to keep us hopping.”
“You’re pregnant?” Nicole asked. “Miguel didn’t tell me.”
Isabella smiled. “He doesn’t know. We’ve been trying for quite a while, and about the time we’d started talking about adoption... Well, J.R. and I just found out for sure yesterday.”
“Congratulations,” Nicole said.
“Thank you.” Isabella smiled, then moved on to the next woman, a slender redhead with long, straight hair and hazel eyes. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, just a light coat of lipstick, but she really didn’t need more than that. She had a natural beauty—and a warm smile.
“This is Leah,” Isabella said. “She’s married to my brother Javier.”
Nicole had heard that Javier had nearly died from injuries he’d received when the tornado struck Red Rock on New Year’s Day last year. And that he’d married one of his nurses.
“I’ve looked forward to meeting you,” Leah said. “We’re happy for Mig
uel—and we’re glad he’s back home for good.”
Next Isabella introduced Nicole to Melina, an attractive blonde with blue eyes who was married to Rafe. “Melina is an occupational therapist,” Isabella added.
After meeting her future sisters-in-law, Nicole turned to the last woman in the room, a breathtakingly beautiful blonde.
“And this is Frannie,” Isabella said. “She was a Fortune before marrying our cousin, Roberto, a few years back.”
Roberto, a local contractor and real estate developer, had been helping Miguel find the right property for his nightclub. So it was nice to meet his wife.
“We’re so glad to meet you,” Frannie said. “And we’re happy to have you in the family.”
Nicole didn’t know what to say, particularly in light of her history with Miguel. Not that she didn’t appreciate the warm reception, but deep down she knew she didn’t deserve it.
Unlike the other women, who had been blessed with new babies and loving husbands, her own upcoming marriage wouldn’t last.
“Now that our guest of honor is here,” Isabella said, “let’s go out to the patio for lunch.”
As the women filed out of the living room, Frannie drew Nicole aside. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m so glad you and Miguel found each other again. Roberto and I were high school sweethearts, too. And we finally got back together after a fifteen-year separation.”
Frannie might think they had a lot in common, but they really didn’t. Okay, so they’d both fallen in love as teenagers. But Nicole and Miguel’s relationship hadn’t stood the test of time.
Miguel’s love for her had faded.
Hers for him had faded, too, she supposed, but not completely. The more time they spent together as adults, the more they pretended to have those same feelings, the more...well, the more confusing it all seemed.
“My mother went to unimaginable lengths to keep me and Roberto apart,” Frannie added. “She even faked the results of a paternity test and orchestrated my marriage to another man.”
Nicole’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. As bad as her parents had been, as narrow-minded and demanding, she knew they never would have gone to that extreme. “That must have been devastating to learn.”
“My mom has been troubled for a long time. I’m just glad that I finally learned the truth. After eighteen years, I learned that Josh, my son, was actually Roberto’s child. And that Roberto had never stopped loving me.”
Nicole had once believed that the love she and Miguel had felt for each other would never die, but that hadn’t been the case. As romantic as it might seem to think that they’d found each other and fallen in love all over again, things hadn’t worked out that way.
“It took a tragedy to get us back together,” Frannie said. “It’s great that you and Miguel were able to reunite on your own.”
Actually, if Nicole hadn’t gone to New York to beg—and to bribe—Miguel to return to Red Rock and marry her under false pretenses, they’d still be living their own lives.
“It’s tough falling in love with someone your family doesn’t approve of,” Frannie added. “And I hope it’s different for you this time around, that your parents realize how much you both care for each other.”
“They’re still not happy about it,” Nicole admitted.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe, with time, they’ll come to realize they were wrong.”
Poor Frannie had no idea that there was no chance of that happening. With time, Nicole and Miguel would be divorced. And her parents would think they’d been right all along. But that was her secret—hers and Miguel’s.
“I hope you’re right,” Nicole said.
Frannie placed a hand on Nicole’s arm. “Me, too. But even if your parents never accept Miguel, I can promise you that the Mendoza family will give you our unconditional love and support.”
Nicole’s stomach clenched. What would Miguel’s family say when they learned that the marriage wasn’t going to last?
While she ought to be thrilled and encouraged by Frannie’s pep talk, it actually made her feel worse—about the lie she was forced to tell, about the disappointment she was sure to cause Miguel’s family, who’d known how her teenage romance had ended—and who’d still welcomed her back to the fold with open arms.
At one time, she’d thought a marriage of convenience would be a win-win situation for everyone involved.
But now, as she headed out to Isabella’s patio, where colorful fabrics draped a table set for six, she approached the women who’d so graciously accepted her as a sister and a wave of nausea threatened to ruin her appetite.
She wished there was another way for her to secure her position at Castleton Boots, a way that didn’t force her to live a lie.
Or better yet, she wished that whatever she and Miguel had once felt for each other still burned brightly.
Chapter Six
While Nicole was having lunch with Isabella, Miguel drove into town to meet with Roberto at the old Winslow building, one of several properties he was considering and the one he liked best. He hoped Roberto could give him an idea about how much it would cost to make the necessary renovations.
“I’m sorry for being late,” Roberto said upon arriving. “And unfortunately, I can’t stay. I have a crew working on a project on the south side of town, and I just got a call from the foreman. One of the guys running a backhoe hit a water main, so I have to run. But I can give you a detailed estimate within the next couple days.”
“You saw the inside of the building when you first showed me the property,” Miguel said. “Can you give me a ballpark figure?”
“Probably around fifty grand—maybe more. But you’ll get the family discount.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
With all he’d saved so far and the money Nicole had offered him, the plan seemed feasible.
Neither of the other two places he was considering would need as much work, but the Winslow building had a better location. And there was room to negotiate on the price based upon the money he had to put into it.
After Roberto left, Miguel hung out on Main Street for a while. Then, before running the errands he had to do while he was in town, he stopped off at Red for lunch.
“Will that be a table for one?” the hostess asked.
“No. There’s a baseball game on the television in the lounge, so I’ll eat in there.”
The lunch crowd had already left, so the bar was nearly empty. Miguel took one of the middle bar stools, ordered a couple tacos and a Corona with lime. Then he settled into his seat and caught the score. The Rangers were down by two at the top of the fifth, but the bases were loaded, and they’d called in a pinch hitter.
Ten minutes and three runs later, the bartender brought the tacos and set the plate in front of him. “Can I get you another beer?”
“No,” Miguel said, “this is plenty. Thanks.”
The bartender nodded toward a doorway. “Then, if you don’t mind, I’m going into the storeroom to check inventory before the happy hour crowd shows up.”
“No problem.” Miguel had no more than returned his focus to the television screen when his brother’s voice sounded behind him.
“Hey, I heard you snuck in here.”
Miguel glanced over his shoulder as Marcos approached. “I thought I’d catch the end of the Rangers’ game. They were down, but they’re back on top now.”
“Good.” Marcos placed his forearm on the empty stool next to Miguel. He watched the next batter strike out, then said, “I assume Nicole is out at Molly’s Pride with the other women.”
“The other women?”
“Isabella invited Wendy, Melina and Leah to join them for lunch. I think Frannie went, too.”
Miguel wondered how Nicole would feel about that. She
hadn’t been expecting an afternoon with the girls.
“You look surprised,” Marcos said.
“I guess I shouldn’t be. It only stands to reason that the women in the family would be curious about Nicole and eager to learn more about the wedding.”
“It’s not just the women who are curious,” Marcos said. “The whole family knew how you felt about each other back in high school.”
But no one more than Marcos, Miguel supposed.
“I hope this time around things work out.”
Miguel shot a glance at his brother, saw the question in his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to get hurt.”
Marcos paused for a beat, then seemed to shake off whatever concern he might have had. “I’m sure you won’t.”
“What about the others? Are they putting too much stock in the way things ended last time?”
“I don’t think so. We’re glad you finally got back together. In fact, we’ve all been a little worried about you over the years, so we’re relieved to see that you’re finally going to settle down.”
“You’ve been worried about me?” Miguel took a sip of his beer, then set the bottle aside. “Why?”
“Because you’ve always played the part of the happy-go-lucky bachelor, but I figured you were actually on the run.”
“On the run? From what?”
“Love, commitment, heartbreak. You name it. Ever since you split up with Nicole, you’ve had your guard up and wouldn’t let other women get too close.”
“Yeah, well, that’s crazy. I’ve been over Nicole for years.”
“You’ve been over her?” Marcos arched a brow, picking up on the slip of tongue.
Now what?
Miguel hadn’t meant to tip his hand. But it wasn’t going to be easy to lie to Marcos now, especially since they’d always had an honest relationship. So he scanned the lounge, making sure there wasn’t anyone within earshot.
When he realized their conversation would be private, he lowered his voice anyway and pointed to the bar stool on which Marcos was resting his arm. “Take some of the weight off your feet.”
